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Alien Separation

Page 36

by Gini Koch


  As he grinned at me, I realized one thing that was missing—recognition. He didn’t look like he remembered meeting me—or threatening to make me brain-dead then rape me repeatedly so that I could birth all his children while in a coma. There was evil glee in his expression, but no real malice. The Original Ronaldo had come up with a lot of malice when he’d wanted to. Decided my gut, like Reader’s, was rarely wrong and just went with it.

  Sadly, the cloning process our enemies used meant that the clone had all the memories that the original had. At least, as long as the original or clone du jour had downloaded their brain into the cloning system.

  Then again, the last time we’d seen the real original Ronaldo, Jeff had beaten him literally almost to death for a variety of reasons, threatening to make me brain-dead and then rape me being only two of them. And if this clone had been put in place prior to LaRue the First being killed, then that meant he’d been put in place prior to Ronaldo the Maybe Original returning to Earth, as well, and possibly also before Ronaldo the Maybe Original had taken his beatdown. But that would mean that he had a separate memory stream from that point on.

  Thought about the Ronaldo Gladys had killed—he’d entered her mind so easily, so deeply, and yet, prior to Operation Infiltration, he’d never really tried. He’d controlled an entire facility full of A-Cs and humans, including Gladys, during Operation Confusion but he hadn’t done more than just keep them acting like sheep. His mind control during Operation Infiltration was far more advanced. This could have been the Evildoer Society upping their game . . . or there could have been another reason.

  “What are you doing here?” Reader asked, presumably because he’d made the leap, too, and realized that Ronaldo wasn’t clear about why we were all shocked. This gave me time to keep on thinking. Yay, Bizarro World, for forcing me to try to think without speaking.

  My mind was whirring at its own version of hyperspeed, helped, no doubt, by what I considered real food. What if the Original Ronaldo had been so close to dead after his beatdown that, even though Original LaRue took him off the planet, he couldn’t be saved? That would mean she’d had to have cloned the original well before she’d found the Z’porrah, or, at least, before they all hit Earth again to try to destroy us.

  If she hadn’t cloned Ronaldo prior to the start of Operation Confusion, then the clones she’d made of him wouldn’t necessarily have his memories. They’d know what she’d told them, and maybe she’d downloaded Ronaldo’s brain in advance, but that download would be missing all the information that happened afterward. This would be the best-case scenario for us. Therefore, it was probably the most unlikely. Not impossible but, the way our luck ran, improbable. Of course, the man in the Butt Ugly Chair sort of said we were lucking out. Maybe.

  So what if she’d cloned Ronaldo before Operation Confusion, and therefore even before Jamie was born? After all, they’d cloned Leventhal Reid, and his death predated Operation Confusion by a good year. The LaRue and Reid clones we’d met during Operation Infiltration had indicated they weren’t cloning others beyond themselves and the Mastermind. But maybe that’s because they already had, or felt that once the Ronaldo Clones were used up they wouldn’t need any more? Or maybe Original LaRue hadn’t shared with the others that she’d made Ronaldo Clones, and that would mean that LaRue 2.0 wouldn’t share that, either.

  Original LaRue had spent time on Alpha Four during Operation Confusion. A lot of time. And she had a power cube, meaning she could have easily left the planet and gone to this one and no one would have noticed. For all we knew, there was a cloning facility here. And my guess was that it was with the snakipede pens or cloning facility or whatever they were using to create those monsters. Who would even try to find something those things were protecting?

  So, I could take as a working hypothesis that she’d made a couple of Ronaldo clones, just in case. When she’d made them was still iffy, but proof that at least one existed was sitting in front of me. LaRue was a long-term planner, after all.

  Also safe to say that the real Ronaldo had been brain-dead or so badly damaged after Jeff’s beatdown that, A-C or not, he wasn’t worth it to fix or she couldn’t fix him. So she installed her most ready Ronaldo Clone on this throne, and left him to keep her interests safe in this solar system.

  Then it’s off to the Z’porrah home world in her stolen hyperdrive spaceship with another Ronaldo clone in tow. This one, however, maybe they tinkered with. Increased his mind control powers, just in case. After all, the Z’porrah weren’t going to stay on Earth. Earth was probably going to be the prize LaRue and Ronaldo got to keep. So, ensure that your man is able to use his mind control even better than before, because a few were able to avoid and ignore said powers in the past.

  LaRue was accidentally shot by Esteban Cantu during Operation Infiltration. And it was likely that she hadn’t had time to download her memories into her cloning facility on Earth, because they had no time to do so between landing impressively and her being shot. Maybe she’d had time to download before she’d taken off for galactic parts unknown, but she’d been off the planet when Operation Confusion went down, so it was unlikely that she’d done an upload.

  Meaning that the Mastermind’s team on Earth, the LaRue Clone included, might not know that a Ronaldo Clone was on this planet, running things, or that the guy who came back to Earth with LaRue was also a Ronaldo Clone. The LaRue Clone might not even know that there was a Ronaldo Clone on this planet. But that wasn’t a sure enough bet to assume.

  Clarence Valentino might have known, since he went to the Z’porrah home world with them, but he was dead now, and his loyalty would have been to LaRue and probably the Z’porrah. She was the one who’d saved him, after all. Even though Cliff had saved him after Operation Destruction, why give up your only ace in the hole? Even Clarence hadn’t been that loyal or that stupid. Close, of course, but not quite. And if he’d told Cliff about a Ronaldo clone, then Clarence would have had no one to run to, and I knew for a fact that he hadn’t been the kind of guy to go it alone, ever.

  But would he have told the LaRue clone? When we “met” her she was about twelve in terms of maturity. Meaning that the chances were extremely slim that Clarence would have told a child about all the things he knew that she didn’t. He’d probably planned to, but I’d killed him before she was old enough and he’d had the chance. The likelihood was high that LaRue 2.0 on Earth had no idea that this Ronaldo was on this planet or that the Ronaldo who was instrumental during Operation Infiltration wasn’t the real deal.

  On Bizarro World, LaRue hadn’t told Cliff she was an alien. We’d never seen any indication of her shapeshifting on Earth, so maybe the Cliff in this universe also didn’t know. Meaning the Cliff in this universe also might not know that there was a Ronaldo Clone, let alone that he was sitting on the throne of Beta Eight.

  “I’m ruling my world,” Ronaldo 2.0 said, still cheerfully. “What are you doing sneaking in here?”

  “Taking your world away from you.” Hey, why waste time with verbal gymnastics? Things were falling from the sky and meant that, in short order, others would be here to do the same. Only I was prepared to defend this world and its inhabitants and I knew without asking that The Clone King was not. He was prepared to welcome the Z’porrah, and that meant he was also willing to let every other creature on this world die. Louie the Lizard and his kind and the snakipedes might have a shot with the Z’porrah, but everyone else on the planet was going to be Dino Chow unless we prevented it.

  Ronaldo smirked. “Just how are all of three of you and a couple of pets going to do that?”

  Took a look around the room. We were easily outnumbered five to one. Had to assume anyone here was an Ancient traitor—of which they either had an amazing amount or most of them were clones—or a Beta Twelve traitor, because there was no way Queen Renata was in on this.

  But it always paid to be sure. Looked at one of the Amazons. “
Your queen has allowed you to follow a man’s rule?”

  She smirked. “Our queen is unfit to rule.”

  “Ah, that old wheeze again. You all believe that?” I asked the room in general.

  Ronaldo’s grin went wider as all the female heads nodded. In far too much unison for the Amazonian Ancients. They were clones for sure. Usha’s clones, maybe. But while there were a lot of similarities, they didn’t really look like exact copies of her.

  “Where’s Usha?” I knew where the one I’d met was, and I also knew where the one Reader and the others had killed was.

  All the Ancient Amazonians smirked. The exact same smirk at the exact same time. Smirking was the thing in this room, apparently. “Around,” the spokesclone said.

  “Around where? I ask because you all look a lot like her.” Actually, now that I’d examined them some more, they didn’t. They looked like the dead one. But I didn’t know her name.

  Group shrug. This was freaky. The whole Multiple Man thing was great, but all the clones I’d met so far were independent thinkers. With these, I didn’t get that impression. The Free Women who were here didn’t look freaked out. But, thankfully, they also didn’t look like carbon copies of each other, either.

  “Nearby,” the spokesclone said with another smirk that was duplicated by all the others.

  “Yeah? Because at least two of you aren’t nearby. One’s dead and one’s captured.”

  All the eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” the spokesclone asked.

  “Where are my warriors?” Had to figure someone we were looking for was here, and warriors was a nice word that covered everyone.

  “Who wants to know?” one of the other smirkers asked. Was shocked as hell until I realized it was a Free Woman, not an Ancient Amazonian.

  “The person who’s going to end all of you and save them.” No time like the present to see if I had the backup I thought I did or not.

  They all laughed and assumed fighting stances. The Ancient Amazonians’ stances were exactly the same, the Free Women’s were similar but slightly different from each other.

  “I think you’re going to have to prove that,” Ronaldo said with a happy laugh. Had the strong suspicion that he’d been brought along too fast because he sounded like he’d been eating at the Cray-Cray Buffet for a long time. Didn’t know if that was going to help us or not, but until proven otherwise, my working hypothesis was that Ronaldo 2.0 was as mad as a bag full of hatters.

  “Happy to. Poofs assemble!”

  CHAPTER 66

  SENT THANKS OUT TO ALGAR, ACE, Naomi, Sandy, and any other superconciousnesses that might be hanging about, because Poofs poured out of my purse. Many more Poofs than I’d been prepared for. I had all of those who’d definitely made this trip with us from Earth—but there were more than those assembled around the five of us.

  Ronaldo, the Free Women, and the Amazonian Ancients all laughed. The Poofs were still small and adorable. And the extra Poofs were not Poofs that I recognized at all.

  “This is what you think will defeat us?” the spokesclone asked. “You are truly pathetic, and these even more pathetic creatures prove it.”

  “Poofies? Feel free to be insulted, and also feel free to have a nice snack. Kitty’s sure you’re all very hungry.”

  Harlie turned, looked at me, purred, then turned back, gave a growl and went large. Then Harlie growled again, only this growl thundered. It was answered by two other Poofs, one of whom I realized with a shock was Tenley, who was Queen Victoria’s Poof. The other Poof I also recognized—it was the Poof that Alexander had kept with him after Operation Invasion. Meaning the Alpha Four Royal Poofs were here. And presumably the two that were left on the planet had gotten as busy as our Poofs.

  All the Poofs went large and in charge. There were screams from the Free Women and the Amazonian Ancients as well, though they didn’t scream too long. Hey, my Poofs were really hungry and they didn’t stop to play with their food.

  “I think there are some more of these in the hallway or close by,” I said helpfully. A few Poofs zipped out. I heard more screams. And a lot of crunching.

  In short order, the Poofs all rejoined us, went to small, and burped as discreetly as they could manage.

  “Good Poofies!” Looked at Ronaldo, who hadn’t moved from his throne. His expression was an interesting combination of horror and terror. It was a great look on him as far as I was concerned. “Ronnie, thanks so much for letting my adorable weapons of mass destruction have a great meal. They were really hungry. They might be full now, but, you know, I have an ocellar and a chocho who haven’t had much food, and I’m sure the Poofs would be willing to share and let them eat you.”

  “Who are you?” He sounded shocked. “They never said you could do anything like that.”

  Mentally gave myself a high five and sent up another round of thanks—he wasn’t a Clone in the Know. The likelihood that he’d been put in place before Ronaldo the Original’s embarrassing loss to Jeff and had never had an upload or an update since rose up to the top position.

  “We’re people on a schedule, Ronnie. And we hate being late. Right now, there’s a gigantic civil war brewing, both at home and abroad. And you’re at the center of all of it. Aren’t you lucky?”

  Ronaldo 2.0 didn’t look like he felt lucky. So he did have a brain in there. Could feel him trying to control my mind. Looked at Reader and Fancy—they looked annoyed but not controlled. Same with Wilbur and Ginger. Looked back to 2.0.

  “Ronnie, babe, seriously, we aren’t really the mind controllable sort, so stop straining yourself. Or I’ll seriously let my cool Beta Eight dog and cat eat you. Right now. In front of me. While I cheer them on.”

  Felt him stop. “Fine,” he snapped. “What is it you want?”

  “You off the throne. The civil war on this planet to be fast and bloodless. The civil war going on within this solar system to be over with no more bloodshed. The snakipede factory shut down. Any prisoners you might have or think you have returned to us. For starters. I’m sure I’ll have more in a moment.” Hey, it paid to ask for what you wanted.

  “I have powerful friends.”

  “Actually, you don’t. LaRue or Zenoca or whatever she told you to call her is dead. As is the original version of you and all your clone bros. Clearly we have ways of dealing with your cloned Amazonian Assassins and the Free Women who are going against their Queen. And there’s a lot of firepower up there in space that will look at you as the only impediment to their claiming this world for their very own. And then mining the living hell out of it.”

  He looked smug. “There’s more out in space than those.”

  “Yes, you’re right, there is. The Z’porrah fleet is on the way.” He looked shocked that I knew this. Always nice to impress your host. “However, I’ll kill you before they can ever contact you, let alone land, so I wouldn’t be counting on them. They aren’t going to help you. Sure, they might be able to hurt us, but you’ll be long dead.”

  2.0’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Which of your many demands should we deal with first?”

  “Let’s go with prisoners. I’d like to see everyone you have captive, and that includes natives and non-natives, in case you weren’t clear.”

  He stood, nodded curtly, then headed toward a door at the back of the throne room, opposite from the doorway we’d come through.

  Reader stepped up behind me. “It’s too easy,” he murmured. “Assume something bad is coming, in some way.”

  Fancy was on my other side. “I agree,” she said in the same low tone. “Impressive fighting force or no.”

  “Agreed. If we get separated, figure I’m heading toward the snakipede pits.”

  “Why would we get—”

  Fancy was interrupted by 2.0 reaching the door and kicking up the hyperspeed. I’d been expecting it, and not only due to Reader’s warning. So I took of
f as well. Figured Fancy would catch onto the whole “getting separated” idea rather quickly.

  Had to give it to 2.0—he wasn’t lacking in the hyperspeed. Of course, neither was I. And him running off had done me a solid—I was angry.

  Followed him down a corridor, up a set of stairs, down another corridor, into a room, out the door on the opposite side of this room, up another set of stairs, down yet another corridor, and outside onto a walled walkway. Didn’t get a chance to admire the view since we ran across the walkway, down another set of stairs, into another room, out of that room, down a really long corridor, and to a big metal door. Waited for over the river and through the woods, but it wasn’t to Grandmother’s House we were going.

  This was easier to follow than the path Fancy had taken us on to get inside the castle, but I still wasn’t confident that I’d have a hope of finding my way back on my own. And I hadn’t had a lot of time to note landmarks along the way—one room or corridor in this castle looked pretty much like the rest. Exciting architectural and design elements were not what whoever had built this thing was going for. Stolid, boring, repetition that meant it was easy to get lost apparently was.

  On the other hand, it hardly mattered. I’d probably have to check every room of this place anyway to ensure that we’d found everyone we were looking for and to verify that more of our enemies weren’t lurking about.

  If, you know, I got the chance. Because 2.0 opened the big metal door and ran in, and I ran in right behind him.

  Nice to know that Reader had been right. It had definitely been far too easy.

  CHAPTER 67

  NICE TO KNOW that I’d been right, too. We were in the snakipede pens. And I was really glad I was already angry.

  In 2.0’s defense, he’d actually brought me to some of his prisoners. Not the ones I was expecting, but I was glad to see them anyway. And, under the circumstances, they were totally living up to their God Names. Really hoped Wilbur would be able to follow me and bring the others—Fancy should get to see her religious idols in action, after all.

 

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